Something Good Can Work
by magikalmika
Summary: [This story is about three OCs, not any of the main characters.] In the time before the main cast of Attack on Titan joins the military, three kids from Stohess District join the Training Corps in order to secure a long, comfortable life in the inner walls. But as the years of training go by, will any of them change their minds?


It was official. The instructor was completely insane.

Standing around 50 feet away from him, trainees could feel miniscule flecks of saliva making impact with their faces. Shadis's features contorted into a scrunched-up expression as profanities and insults spewed from the space between his over-stretched jaws. Whipping his head up and down the row of trembling amateurs, he sifted through the group with his eyes.

"You there, with the funny hair! What's your name?!" Shadis shouted, sound waves reverberating throughout the valley.

A head full of silvery hair snapped upwards. "Dahlia Weissman, sir, hailing from the Stohess district." Her voice was calm.

"Well, Miss Weissman, you seem to be greying a bit early," he taunted. Her eye twitched.

"What about this guy?" He stalked up to her brother's broad chest.

"My brother, sir."

Shadis jabbed a finger into his ribcage. "What's up with YOU?!"

"Nothing, sir. I am Blaise Weissman, also afflicted with the same inherited lack of pigment." His thin lips drew back into a smirk.

"Think you're real funny, huh?" Shadis screeched. He swiftly kicked both of his shins. "It'll be real funny when you're dangling from a Titan's mouth!" He scowled, and continued walking. After the intimidating instructor persisted in harassing other inductees, the two siblings relaxed their posture a bit.

Dahlia glared up at Blaise, who merely chuckled at her expression. She averted her eyes to the ground angrily, breaking her form to adjust the thin metal brooch that kept a clump of sideswept bangs from hanging in her eyes.

"You are _such _an idiot," Dahlia spat out at her brother. Her tone was flat, and extraordinarily grating on the ears. However, Blaise's attention was directed elsewhere, his gaze fixated on a blonde girl in the row facing them. Dahlia's mouth drew back in a sour grimace. She felt a gigantic hand placed on her right shoulder, and tilted her head far upwards.

"Mm?" She hummed questioningly, still pulling that awful face. It had been Vincent Paulissen, a friend that she'd known her whole lifel. Leaning down to her level, he brought his lips close to her ear.

"I'd be careful if I were you." Enigmatic and somber as ever, he straightened his spine and resumed his position. Dahlia did as well, pounding a clenched fist resiliently on her chest. Not paying attention to her wandering eyes, they drifted toward Vincent's face. Her slanted blue eyes scanned his facial features: his pale skin, long nose, determined black eyes, dark pieces of hair hanging messily out of his ponytail.

He noticed Dahlia's staring, and turned his neck to look down at her. Startled, she sharply angled her head forward, and pretended to focus. Vincent's cheeks were tinted red as his dark eyes darted to his boots.

He often played the role of the doting older brother, as Blaise clearly didn't. Vincent had been present for most of the Weissmans' childhood, having attended the same schools, and being well accepted by the entire Weissman family.

Their father worked for the military police, but rarely visited his family, although they lived in the Interior. Because he rarely returned home, Vincent's strong male presence was much appreciated in the household. That was where his sense of responsibility for the Weissman siblings had come from. However, they were becoming a bit more independent lately.

That was part of the reason that the odd-looking siblings had chosen to be inducted today. The other was that it was necessary for them to join the military police in order to reside cozily in the interior with their parents for the remainder of their lives. That, and since they had no other career plan, the military seemed like a good choice- as long as you weren't in the survey corps.

Vincent would have an absolute fit if one of them joined _that _branch. He was five years older than Dahlia and three years older than Blaise, and had made it his personal mission to keep the duo out of trouble since they were toddlers. They had waited to enlist together, and Vincent stood embarrassingly taller than the others.

Dahlia suspected that he had tagged along to continue his mother-hen act. It was a bit annoying at times, but he had saved her rear from her own attitude more times than she could count. Despite his intimidating appearance, Vincent was in actuality a wonderful, although soft-spoken person.

Before the three even knew what had happened, the induction was over. They had a few hours free until dinner. Tomorrow, the real challenge would begin. Dahlia suspected that Vincent, with his quick movements and surprising strength for his build, would be ahead of the game. The sun began its slow descent to the horizon, causing a haze to blur the edge of the valley. Blaise was off flirting, as per usual. He was strong, but not very bright. At least, that's how the cynical Dahlia saw it.

Vincent stood alone on the porch of one of the boys' dorms while others chatted. He heard light footsteps behind him, almost creeping. Whipping around, he found Dahlia to have been behind him.

"Damnit! Every time," she sighed. It was a sort of ongoing joke for her to try to scare her older friend.

"You know that never works on me," chided Vincent. His dark lashes contrasted with his skin as he closed his eyes and shook his head.

"It's almost time to eat. If we get there soon, we won't have to wait in line for long."

He nodded in silent agreement, and began walking toward the mess hall. Dahlia followed him, two of her steps to his one.

"Vincent, can you carry me? I'm tired," she whined. To her surprise, he actually leaned over and gestured toward his back. A tiny smile formed on her lips as she clambered onto his lean back. She clamped her arms and legs around his torso like some animal from long ago that she'd read about called a "koala." Her position matched exactly the illustration on the page.

Dahlia closed her eyes in contentment and nuzzled her chin into Vincent's shoulder. His silky black hair made the perfect cushion. Sighing deeply, he grumbled some unintelligible complaint.

Maybe it was nice to have a friend like Vincent around after all.


End file.
